Snapshots in Time
by Auna
Summary: Futurefic Series #6


Title: Snapshots in Time

Author: Auna

Rating: PG-13 (for innuendo)

Disclaimer: Some are mine, some are not.  You know the difference.

Summary:  This story is exactly what the title implies; brief moments of personal interaction.  It is collage of smaller stories I had in my thoughts that didn't fit anywhere else. There is no plot or unifying theme.  I made absolutely no effort to segue from one story to the next, and the only action involves a couple of people falling down.  You have been warned.

Credits: Thank You to ScapeRed, scrubschick, and catlucky for reviewing, fixing, and letting me know I can't get away with leaving it like this.

This is #6 in this series.  I know, getting kinda lengthy, huh?  To catch up, start here and follow the links.  I spent two hours fixing them, so if any aren't working PLEASE let me know so I can mend.

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Toys

On opposite sides of the bench, John and Aeric sat watching a movie.  Although the older man had seen it countless times, this was the first time his son had viewed it.  Watching it with him was like seeing it for the first time.  He couldn't help but turn and watch Aeric's reactions, and for a while he just enjoyed spending time with his boy.

"Dad!" Aeric broke into his reverie, "what's _that?"_

John turned to the screen to see a couple walking hand in hand in a park.  He raised an eyebrow, and cleared his throat nervously.  "When two people love each other…"

"Not them," Aeric said, frustrated, "_that_!"  He was pointing to a group of teenagers in the background executing various hazardous skateboarding tricks.

"Oh, that's a skateboard."

Aeric's eyes glazed over and he stared intently at the screen, mesmerized by the moves and the skills of the kids.  When the scene ended, he turned to his father with wonder in his eyes.

"They have those on Earth?"

"Yeah, it's pretty big in some areas."  John could tell that Aeric had lost all interest in the movie.  His son was staring into space, a sad look on his face.

"You were never planning on going back again, were you."

"It's too dangerous for Earth. If _we_ find a way back, others can too."

"Do you have any other movies with those skateboards in them?"

An idea was coalescing in John's mind.  "I'm not sure, but I think I may have something better.  C'mon."  He turned off the TV and motioned for Aeric to follow him.

Aeric followed his father through the corridors of Moya and found himself in one of the lesser used maintenance bays.  "If I give you a list of materials, think you can find them for me?"

"I can try."

"Start with a welding torch."

Aeric reached the over to the table he was standing next to and picked up the tool that had been sitting on top and held it out to Crichton.

"Right.  Now we'll need four Rotating Modulars, two Flix Attachments, and a few couplings."

"Where are you going?" Aeric asked the retreating back of his father.

"While you're getting all that together, I'm going to find a base."

"You're farhbot, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm fun.  And if you work with me here, you like the results."

Smiling, Aeric began assembling the requested items into a pile.  When he was nearly finished locating everything, his father returned with a triumphant smile and a large flat piece of lightweight metal.  "We're in business!"

The boy watched his father work, the enthusiasm infectious.  Occasionally, John would ask for another component, and Aeric would hand it over.  John was wielding, shaping the metal with the torch, verbally instructing Aeric how to do it so he could try when a voice broke over the comms.

"John!"  He heard his mother almost yelling to be heard over the flame.

John turned off the torch and answered.  "Hey babe, what's up?"

"We are inventorying Chiana's coat now.  You said you wanted to be present."

"Oh, yeah, well, I'm kinda tied up right now.  If it's not an emergency I'll check it out later.  Just make sure she doesn't blow anything up or accidentally melt something.  Or someone."

"Shut up, old man," he heard Chiana break into the conversation.

"What's going on?  Do you need assistance?" Aeryn asked worriedly.

"No, no.  Everything's cool.  It's just Aeric and I are in the middle of something."

"The TV will always be there."

"We're not watching TV.  Anymore.  It's a guy thing, all right?  We're bonding here."

"The last time you two bonded you ended up in an Unrealized Reality."  They could hear the smile in her voice.  "Just don't be late for dinner."

John turned to Aeric accusingly.  "You told her?"

Aeric held out his hands helplessly.  "She asked direct questions!  You told me not to lie!  And do you know how fine the line is between evasiveness and lying?"  He pointed a finger at John's chest.  "You're lucky we lasted as long as we did before she found out."

John gave his son a pointed look before handing over the torch.  "Here, do something useful."

Eagerly, Aeric grabbed the device and positioned himself in front of Crichton.  Together, they worked on their project, the young boy following John's instructions.  At last, they were finished.

Aeric held the contraption up with awed anticipation.  "This is so drad!  Dad, you're the best!"

"You still have to paint it."

"I'll do that later.  Can I go try it out?"

"Yeah, but be careful.  You're not going to be able to be Tony Hawk on your first run."

 Aeric placed the board on the floor and tried to stand on it.  His balance was slightly off and his foot flew out from under him, landing him on his rear-end.  "I guess it's not as easy as it looks," he said, embarrassed.

John was trying hard to hide his chuckles.  "I guess not."

With determination, Aeric retrieved his skateboard and carefully climbed on top.  With one foot, he pushed himself, just as he'd seen the teenagers in the movie do.  He rolled forword and managed to stay on for a few microts before he slipped.  At least this time, he landed on his feet.  "Drad!!  Did you see that?"

"You're catching on."

Soon, Aeric was able to get up a pretty good speed and stay on the board for a distance.  Bored with circling the maintenance bay, he headed for the corridor.  "Thanks, Dad!" he called before disappearing down the passage.  John heard a crash and a voice holler out "I'm all right!" before the sound of wheels faded.

"Aeryn's gonna kill me," he said under his breath as he headed to the Center Chamber.  Still, he couldn't help smiling, remembering the look in his son's eyes.  For just a moment, he had been someone's hero, and it felt fantastic.  Now he had to face the boy's mother.

***********************************************************************

Toys 2

Eagerly, Chiana grabbed her coat from her closet, and laid it on the table before them.  Even D'Argo stood before the mysterious object in reverenced awe.  They had waited for this moment ever since returning to Moya from the Groelesh ship, and the three of them were like children waiting to open a present.  This was the first opportunity they'd had since the incident to take the time to properly study the cache, and they were anxious and excited.

"Where's Crichton?" Chiana asked, looking around.  "He wanted to be here."

Aeryn tapped her comms.  "John."  She waited a microt before trying again.  "John…"  When she still did not receive an answer, she tried Pilot.  "Pilot, where is Crichton?"

"He and Aeric are in maintenance bay four.  They've been there for about an arn.  Both of their comms are functioning properly."

"Thank you Pilot.   John!" she yelled, wondering what those two were up to now.

"Hey babe, what's up?"  He sounded distracted.

"We are inventorying Chiana's coat now.  You said you wanted to be present."

"Oh, yeah, well, I'm kinda tied up right now.  If it's not an emergency I'll check it out later.  Just make sure she doesn't blow anything up or accidentally melt something.  Or someone."

"Shut up old man," Chiana interrupted, and Aeryn waved her arm for silence, unable to hide the smile he could always bring to her face.  Still...she knew that tone.  He was up to something.

"What's going on?  Do you need assistance?" Aeryn asked suspiciously.

"No, no.  Everything's cool.  It's just Aeric and I are in the middle of something."

"The TV will always be there."  She knew they weren't in the right chamber for the television, but she wanted to tease him.

"We're not watching TV.  Anymore.  It's a guy thing, all right?  We're bonding here."

Now she was really suspicious.  She didn't like the innocent note to John's voice.  "The last time you two bonded you ended up in an Unrealized Reality."  She should be mad about that whole incident, but they'd come out all right and grown closer because of it.  Aeric had probably softened the story a bit, but she trusted John.  Sighing, she gave up finding out what they were up to.  "Just don't be late for dinner."

Turning her mind from her men, she focused on the treat before her.  Chiana opened the coat and began emptying the numerous pockets onto the table.  On one side she laid the items they recognized; on the other, she put the items none of them could identify.  One by one the weapons emerged, all shapes and sizes.

The pockets seemed bottomless as weapon after weapon emerged.  "How the hezmana did you even walk around?" Aeryn asked incredulously.

"I'm stronger than ya think," Chiana said with a smile.

Finally, the table was full, the coat was empty and the three friends could only stare in awe at the beautiful sight before them.  "A Tralaxian hand dart!" Aeryn exclaimed, gently picking up the small tube and examining the craftsmanship.

Chiana smiled smugly and elbowed D'Argo in the stomach.  "What did I tell you?  I knew she'd love it."

D'Argo rolled his eyes.  "That wasn't the point."

"Well, you're not complaining now, are you?"

Chiana picked up what looked like a pulse pistol, laying it off to the side with extreme caution.  "We need to find a way to label the goo gun.  _I_ don't want to grab it accidentally."

"It is very efficient, isn't it?" Aeryn asked with distaste.  She personally couldn't think of a more fitting end for Letchner, but it wasn't something she wanted to use on a regular basis.  "What's this?" she asked, reaching for a small cylindrical object.

"Don't touch that!" D'Argo and Chiana shouted, startling Aeryn.  The object flew from her hands, landing on the floor.  The seal broke, and Chiana made a desperate effort to kick it across the room.  It skidded to a far wall, but the distance wasn't far enough and when the inevitable *BANG* and wave of yellow energy hit, they were all enveloped.

"Do NOT touch anything else!" D'Argo instructed as they began to float upwards.

"I wouldn't have dropped it if you two hadn't overreacted!" Aeryn returned, wimming downwards toward the table where their stash was safely sitting.

"Is everything all right?" Pilot inquired.

"We're fine, Pilot, just feeling a little light on our feet right now.  It's nothing that won't go away," Chiana reassured.

"We need to find a way to test these things safely.  Who knows what we have here?  With our luck, we could have the equivalent to John's nuclear bomb," Aeryn observed.

"Agreed.  We can use the items we know.  The others we'll put in a safe place until we can find a place to test them," D'Argo said as he gingerly gathered the known items into several locking boxes.

Aeryn and Chiana locked the unknown items into crates and the three floated from the room, intending on finding a safe place to store them.

"Try to stay close to the ground," Chiana advised knowingly.  "The drop is a kicker."

*******************************************************************

The Gift

Aeric stood in the doorway, holding a medium sized black box in one hand, and his skateboard in the other.  He was a bit nervous, unsure of what her reaction would be.  "Hey," he said, imitating his father.

"Hey," Brennik returned, looking up at him from the small table featuring a chessboard she was sitting at.

"You don't have to do that, you know," he told her.

"I don't have to do what?"

"Pretend to be ok."

Her smile faded slightly.  "Am I that obvious?"

"No.  But you're just like mom, and that's her standard fake smile.  It fools most people."  He held out the box, stepping into the room.  "Here, this is for you."

She raised one eyebrow, but reached for the gift.  Her name was engraved on the top in gold colored letters.  Her smile changed from forced grimace to curious pleasure.  "You didn't have to get me a gift."

"I didn't," Aeric qualified as he sat across from her at the little table, strategically placing his skateboard so he could slide his feet back and forth.  He moved a chess piece before continuing.  "Seth did.  He told me to give them to you after he left, so you couldn't use them on him."

She moved a chess piece before slowly releasing the latches on the side of the box and lifting the lid.  She gasped.  Nestled inside a soft casing were two shiny new pulse pistols that had probably cost Seth quit a bit of money.  She had to hold back the tears that threatened to run.  "He is such a fekkik."

Aeric moved a piece.  "He said you would say that."

She lovingly caressed the black metal, letting her fingertips memorize the contours before gently lifting one into her hand.  He had chosen just the right size for her.  The grip fit perfectly in her palm, the weight light and manageable.

"They're not exactly brand-new," Aeric confessed sheepishly.  "I used them during the whole kidnapping thing.  But nothing happened to them and I cleaned them real good."

"They're beautiful," she told him.  Remembering their game, she moved a piece and then laid the pistol back in its box while she retrieved a holster and strapped it on.

Aeric moaned.  "Not you too?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Everyone around here always has weapons strapped to them.  Mom picked up the habit and now you.  I think Dad keeps Winona under his pillow at night."

"There's a reason.  You've been on this ship long enough to see that."

"It doesn't mean I have to like it.  Mom is going to start teaching me how to shoot.  That last incident spooked her," he said as he moved a chess piece.

Brennik holstered her weapon and joined him at the table again.  "Good.  It's not as bad as you might think.  I was nervous too."  She took her turn before adding, "It's actually kind of fun."

Aeric rested his chin on his fists, absently running his thumb over his lips as he concentrated.  Finally, he moved a piece.  "So", he said casually, seemingly still absorbed by the game, "have you gotten all the fish guts out of your boots yet?"

She snatched up a dead chess piece and hurled it at him.  He was laughing and managed to duck in time for the pawn to fly past him, landing on the floor harmlessly.  Still chuckling, he sat back up. "Getting a bit brutal, aren't we?"

"That was the single most disgusting experience of my life."

"You should have seen yourself!" he said, his laughter getting worse.  "When you got out of the prowler I thought you were another weird alien."  He had worked himself into hysterics, holding his sides and wiping a tear away.

It was infectious.  Brennik tried to remain indignantly angry, but she found herself beginning to giggle.  With Aeric chortling helplessly across from her, she found that she was losing control herself, until the suppressed laughter shook every part of her.

"And then, when you walked away, you actually squished!  The DRD's took two days to get all the red footprints up."

By now, she was as bad as he was, howling with laughter as she pictured how she must have looked.  Aeric was gasping for air, trying unsuccessfully to calm himself down.  "Only in the Crichton family," he managed to get out, "would someone be attacked by giant, evil, neon, man-eating, flying fish!"

Any control they might have had was now gone, and the gales of laughter could be heard throughout the corridors.  It continued on until finally, they were down to snickering occasionally.  As long as they didn't look at each other, they could continue their game.

Occasionally one would mumble "squish, squish, squish," under their breath, bringing snorts from the other person trying to control themselves.

At last, Aeric had her cornered.  "Check-mate!" he said triumphantly, throwing his arms above his head to form a "V" for victory, like he'd seen his father do a couple of times.  Retrieving his skateboard he headed out of the room, still cheering for himself.

"Aeric," he heard and turned around to see Brennik genuinely smiling at him as she caressed the pistol strapped to her thigh.  "Thank you."

"Anytime, Bren," he said saluting as he jumped on his board and skated away.

***********************************************************************

Prodigal Son

She lay in the shelter of his arms, his warm chest pressed into her back.  She felt his fingers gently comb through her spiky grey hair, and she snuggled into his embrace farther.

"What's wrong?" he asked in his deep, rumbling voice that still sent erotic chills down her spine.

She sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave her alone until she answered truthfully.  Sometimes he knew her too well.  "I'm thinking about Shedya."

The large warm arms squeezed gently, offering moral support.  "I think about him too."  He didn't bother saying everything would be all right.  It would be an empty promise.  "He's got your survival skills," he reassured.

She laughed.  "Yeah, but he's got your temper.  He probably didn't make it off his first planet without getting into trouble."

"That would be your side."

She harrumphed, knowing that with his parentage, the boy didn't stand much of a chance of going anywhere without finding trouble.  "Do you think he's found Jothee yet?"

"He's pretty resourceful."

"That would be my side," she said with a smirk in her voice.  There was a moment of silence before she expressed her next thoughts.  "He and Brennik should have grown up together.  They should have been friends."

"There's a lot that should have happened and didn't."

"We shouldn't have let him go off on his own like that.  He wasn't old enough."

"If you remember correctly, I tried to stop him.  It only made matters worse."

"He's stubborn and willful."

"That would be your side."  She heard the laughter in his voice and thwapped him on his chest.  "He'll come home," he promised, not because he was sure it would happen, but because he knew she needed to hear that right now.

She smiled, knowing he was lying, but feeling better anyway.  She turned over and ran a long grey finger down his tattooed chin.  "Thank you."

He smiled and took her mouth with his, knowing what diversion would always help her put aside her thoughts of their absent son for a few microts.

***********************************************************************

Learning Curve

She tried to turn over, but realized she was pined on her left side by something heavy and completely enveloping.  In the half microt between sleeping and wakefulness she was filled with terror.  The next half microt she realized it was John, her husband, father of her two children.

She was awake now, could consciously feel his warm breath sensuously glide over her neck.  His left arm was wrapped around her waist, holding the half of her body that was not under him, as if, even in sleep he was afraid that someone would snatch her away.  His left leg draped over both of hers, her arm pinned under his torso.  She smiled to herself and gently wiggled her fingers.  Yup, that was what she thought it was.

She should feel stifled, even a touch claustrophobic after sleeping alone the last twenty cycles, but she didn't.  She felt cherished.  She realized she actually enjoyed the weight of him pressing down on her.  She wanted to close her eyes and enjoy the moment, but other matters were pressing.  She needed to use the waste facilities.  Now.

With her free hand, she caressed his face and softly ran her fingers through his spiky grey hair before gently trying to pull his arm from around her.  She didn't want to wake him, he'd had a rough day.  She smiled indulgently.  He'd had a busy night as well.  The poor man needed his rest.  Slowly, dench by dench, she eased herself from beneath him until finally, she was free.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she hastily threw on John's black t-shirt that had somehow gotten thrown on her side of the bed and a pair of workout shorts that nearly disappeared under the voluminous tee.  She rushed to the washroom and heaved an even bigger sigh of relief.

As she washed her hands, she realized she was ravenously hungry and thought of the concoction Chiana had baked earlier that day.  Everyone said it was just like spice cake.  Whatever it was, it had been delicious and her stomach grumbled loudly.  Quietly, she snuck from the room and headed for the Center Chamber.

The corridor was dark, but she felt that she could find the way with her eyes closed.  The trip didn't take long, her speed hastened by the noise emanating from her belly.

Palming the door open, she stepped into the dark room to find Brennik sitting sideways at a far table, her back against the wall, her booted feet propped on the chair before her.  One hand was idly twirling a fork in a large mound of what had probably been cake at one time, the other hand absently caressing a pulse pistol strapped to her thigh.

"I see you found them," Aeryn greeted.

Startled, Brennik jumped slightly, looking a bit confused before realizing what her mother had been referring to.  "Aeric gave them to me."

Aeryn nodded as she helped herself to a gigantic plate of cake.  Pouring herself a glass of water, she carried her snack to the table and sat across from Brennik.  She stuffed a large forkful into her mouth and closed her eyes, letting herself simply enjoy the sensation before chewing and swallowing.  "We need some Wyfag juice on this ship; it would go perfect with this cake."  She glanced up to see the look of shocked distaste her daughter wore.

"You actually drink that dren?  I thought people only drank it to clear out their systems.  I've never seen anyone drink it willingly."

Aeryn shrugged and shoved another towering forkful into her mouth, moaning with pleasure.  "This is so good!"

Brennik smiled, enjoying the sight of her mother enjoying her cake.

"So," Aeryn asked when she'd cleared her mouth, "what are doing up in the middle of the sleep cycle?"

"I could ask the same about you."

"That's easy, I was hungry."  She shot a pointed look at the mess on Brennik's plate.

"I couldn't sleep."

Aeryn nodded.  "Want to talk about it?"  She shoved another bite into her mouth.

There was a long drawn out silence as Aeryn ate her cake and Brennik doodled with her fork in her cake.  Lost in thought, she'd make various shapes before smoothing them over and starting again.

Finally, she spoke.  "Do you remember what it was like to be a Peacekeeper?"

Aeryn wasn't surprised by the question; she'd been expecting something similar since her memories started returning.  "Quite a bit, these days.  What did you want to know?"

The next question showed the heart of the problem.  "Why can't he love me?"

Aeryn paused for a moment, trying to find the best answer possible.  "He does, he just doesn't know what to do with that love."  Brennik looked at her mother in confusion.  "You can't understand what it is like to grow up a Peacekeeper.  No one hugs you; no one kisses your injuries.  No one tucks you into bed at night.  You attach yourself to no one because you never know where you'll be assigned tomorrow."

The young woman thought about that for a few moments.  "But he was conscripted when he was ten.  He grew up in a family."

"He was in a marauder crew.  He was a commando.  Your captain is your god, his word absolute, even if it means your own death.  He is everything to you.  You trust him implicitly because he handpicked you to be on his team.  Sethya shot this man, a man he probably idolized, in the head while looking him in the eyes.  What do you think that would do to him?"

"He's not a murderer," Brennik defended.

Aeryn looked her daughter in the eye, holding the gaze steady.  "Yes, Brennik.  He is.  But you love him anyway.  You are going to have to accept all of him, even the parts you find abhorrent.  He is doing his best to shield you from the ugly side of his character."

Brennik was angry at her mother for telling her this, angry at herself, angry at Sethya.  "So, you're saying he'll kill any one of us at any time?"

"Do you believe that?"

"No!"

"Does _he_ believe that?"

Everything clicked into place and Brennik finally understood.  Her anger evaporated and she was left a hollow shell.  Sethya hadn't run away from her, he'd run away from himself.  There was nothing she could have done differently.

Aeryn reached across the table, grabbing Brennik's wrist and squeezing.  "He'll come back."

Brennik threw her mom a half smile.  "That's what everyone keeps saying."

"Because it's true."  Aeryn picked up her empty plate and glass, taking them to the washer.  Realizing Brennik needed time to think, she simply wished her daughter goodnight and returned to her quarters.

Quietly, she slipped back under the covers to be instantly engulfed in John's arms pulling her to him.  "That was the longest potty break in history.  I almost sent out the search and rescue team."

She laughed as he nuzzled her neck.  "I got hungry and then ran into Brennik."

"How is she doing?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Coping.  I thought you were asleep."

"You left," he said, as if that explained everything.

"But I came back."

He smiled devilishly.  "Yes, you came back."  He kissed her, running his fingers lightly down her side, teasing her.  "And we're both awake."

"Yes, we are," she agreed as he nibbled her earlobe.

He lifted his head and tenderly looked into her eyes.  "Wanna play a game of Tadek?"

Her eyes flew open in shock at the unexpected question and he chuckled until she covered his mouth with hers, letting him know precisely what he could do with his game of Tadek.

***********************************************************************

Tug-A-War

"John, I'm pregnant."

Silence hung in the air as Aeryn stared at herself in the mirror.  Would he be happy?  She wasn't sure.  Just yesterday he'd observed that every time she got pregnant something disastrous happened.  He'd made that comment just as she was about confess her suspicions, so she'd kept her thoughts to herself and went to the healer alone, inventing an excuse of private shopping.  In the arn since she'd learned the news, she kept checking the skies for incoming artillery, or possibly even a freak lightening storm.  So far nothing had happened, though.

The words of the healer still rang through her mind, baffling her.  She couldn't be pregnant, she'd insisted.  She hadn't been with anyone seven cycles ago, and any child she and John might have created should still be in stasis.  So more tests were run, and she was told that, while there was evidence that she had been genetically altered at some point to sustain stasis pregnancies, that mutation had been reversed, and now she was just like any other Sebacean female.  And she was most definitely pregnant.  She was stunned.  She was overjoyed.  This baby was their second chance.  But would John see it that way?

Sighing, she finished drying her hands and left the restroom.  John was waiting for her in the restaurant.  She found their table and was warmed by the smile on his face.  She needed to tell him soon.  The longer she waited, the harder it would be to break the news.

He leaned over and kissed her quickly before handing her a menu.  "I hope you can read this, 'cause I'm ordering blind.  For all I know, I'll be ordering us eyeball and testicle stew."

"You know what I'm really in the mood for?" she asked, scanning the menu.  "A juicy Rhyjuiry sandwich on crusty bread with Hsnach sauce."

She looked up from her menu to see John watching her intently.  "How about some Wyfag juice to wash it down?"

"Oh, that sounds perfect." Still watching her intently, he nodded subtly, before leaning over and kissing her gently.  "What was that for?"

"Just to let you know that I will always love you."

He was in too good a mood to spoil their date.  She'd tell him later, on Moya.

-----------------------------------

Crichton sat across from D'Argo in the Center Chamber, watching his friend eat.  "So, you'll never believe what Aeryn ordered for lunch."

"What?"

"A Rhyjuiry sandwich on crusty bread with Hsnach sauce."

D'Argo paused, his utensil halfway to his mouth.  "Tastes change John.  She's been gone for twenty cycles.  Maybe she was just in the mood for the sandwich."

"And Wyfag juice to finish."

D'Argo dropped his forgotten fork back to the plate.  "Congratulations, my friend.  Has she told you yet?"

Crichton shook his head.  "No, I think she's trying to work up the nerve."

"How do you feel about having another baby?"

John paused for several microts of introspection before replying.  He stared at his fisted hands resting on the table, "Left out."

D'Argo nodded sympathetically.  "I hate to bring this up, but her health care depends on knowing what species this baby will be."

"She hasn't discussed her recreating with me.  I don't know."

"For her health, and that of the child, you have to get her to tell you.  Do you think she knows?"

"Who the father is?"

"That she is pregnant.  Maybe she doesn't know yet.  If the baby just released itself from stasis, maybe she hasn't realized it yet."

"Maybe, but doubtful.  I'll give it a little time, see what she does."

"Whatever happens, John, I'm here for you."

"Thanks, D."

**********************************************************************

Flying

He was late.  He was supposed to be here 500 microts ago.  She paced the maintenance bay set aside for their shooting lesson.  "Aeric, where are you?" she called over her comms.  When there was no reply she contacted pilot.  "Pilot, do you know where Aeric is?"

"He is on tier six.  He has been there for several arns."

Instantly, she was running through the corridors.  "John, meet me on tier six.  Aeric is not answering his comms, something may be wrong."

"I'm on it," he said.

"Chiana and I are en route," D'Argo called.

All of them managed to reach the tier at the same time.  Carefully, they began to search.  "Over here!" Chiana called and everyone ran to her position.

What they saw horrified Aeryn.  "What the FRELL is he doing?" she asked as Aeric flew up a curved wall, flipping the object he was riding on with his feet, then falling back down, only to land on the object and continue going.

"Riding a skateboard," John admitted sheepishly.  "He's actually doing very well."

"Drad!" Chiana enthused.  "I want to try."

"Well," John cleared his throat, "it's not quite as easy as it looks.  You have to put a lot of hours into it to be able to do that."

Aeryn's eyes narrowed to slits.  "Where did my son get that piece of dren?"

"We made it," John admitted.  "The kid was bored, Aeryn.  He's got no one to hang with his age.  All that's around are us old farts.  He saw some teenagers in a movie doing this stuff and he lit up."  John shrugged.  "He hasn't put it down since he got it."

"Except when I'm around," she said, sounding a little hurt.

"I guess he was afraid you wouldn't let him keep it."

"It's dangerous," she said, nervously watching him ride.

He sailed up another curve, performing another trick.  This time, he didn't land properly and fell to the floor, sliding down the curve.  Aeryn started for him, but John put a hand on her arm.  "Watch," he said.  Aeric, laughing, quickly stood up, brushing himself off.  Wasting no time, he set the board in motion again.  "See? He's fine.  Let the poor kid have something that's all his own."

Aeryn was reluctant, but she saw the determined look on John's face.  He didn't get like that very often; this must be important to him.  "If anything happens to him, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Don't kid yourself.  He's probably going to break a few bones before he's through.  He's a boy."

Aeryn looked at the young man riding the skeetbored sadly.  Her son had been changing so much, becoming more moody and irrational lately, and she felt like there wasn't anything she could do about it.  They used to be very close, but they rarely talked anymore.  That thought reminded her of what started this whole search in the first place.  "Well, he can keep it, but he can't ignore his other duties as well.  He was going to have shooting lessons today."

"Head on up to the maintenance bay, I'll get him up there for you."

-------------------

She watched her son for a few microts before turning to leave.  D'Argo and Chiana followed, leaving John alone with Aeric.  He watched the young man ride for a little while, then placed his fingers on either side of his mouth and let out a shrill whistle.

Startled, Aeric missed his landing and dropped to floor, his legs tangled around the board.

"Frell, Dad, what are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Watch your language.  And your mom just got an eyeful."

"Dren!"

"Watch your language.  I talked her into letting you keep the board."

"Drad!" the boy cheered in excitement.

"It's conditional."

Some of the excitement drained.  "On what?"

"These are my conditions, not hers."  Aeric raised an eyebrow, surprised his dad was suddenly putting conditions on the gift, but John ignored the censure and continued.  "You will respect your mother, her concerns and her rules."

"You mean the whole shooting thing."

"Yes."

He let out a long, dramatic sigh.  "I don't want to shoot.  Everyone around here is weapon happy.  I don't want to be like that."

"There's a reason for it, and it's non-negotiable.  Besides your personal safety, this is something your mother wants to do with you.  You will go up there, you will shoot, and you will not give her a hard time."

"You can't make me like it."

"No, but if you're not convincing enough, I can take away the board."

"That's blackmail!"

"She's my wife.  I want her happy.  If you can't respect her as your mother –and you should-- you will respect her as my wife.  If she wants to teach you how to bake cupcakes and play tiddlywinks, you'll learn with a smile on your face.  Got it?"

"Got it…sir," Aeric responded sarcastically.

"Aeric, I understand your reluctance.  I spent an entire cycle in the UT's before I learned how to shoot properly.  But there will come a time when either no one will be there to pull your eema out of the sling, or someone you love will need your help."

"I know," Aeric mumbled, getting up and heading for the maintenance bay.

"When you're done, she'd probably like it if you showed her your board."

His son threw him a doubtful look as he left the room.  John watched his boy retreat, wondering if he'd just ruined all the progress he'd made in their relationship.

***********************************************************************

Misunderstanding

He watched Aeryn throw a bag into the prowler, and climb the ladder to get into the pilot's seat.  "Are you sure about this?" he asked nervously.  "You said you don't remember how to fly a prowler."

"I don't," she answered honestly, strapping on her restraints.  "But I will.  Brennik asked me to teach her how to fly this thing, and I need to refresh my memory.  Get in."

Mumbling under his breath, he climbed in behind her, meticulously double checking his restraints.  The cover sealed them in and he held his breath as Aeryn sat silently, hands on the controls, staring at the dashboard.  She closed her eyes, and all was silent for several microts.  "We'll get there faster if you turn her on."

"Shut- up or get out," she hissed.

"Can I help?"

Frustrated, she sighed heavily.  "I want to figure this out."

"Just a little hint."

"Fine, if it will make you happy."

A pair of oculars appeared next to her head, held in John's hand.  Feeling stupid, she snatched them from him.  "I knew that."

"I know, honey, you were testing me."

She couldn't help but smile.  He'd been so solicitous lately, always trying to help, and she'd been volatile, rude, and unbearable.  Tears pushed behind her eyes and she blinked to keep them at bay.  Frelling hormones.  

If only she'd told him earlier, but the longer she waited, the harder it became.  This was her chance.  She'd set this whole trip up for the purpose to get John alone and tell him.  Now if she could just follow through.  But first she needed to get this frelling machine off Moya.

Slipping the oculars over her head, she began to feel more comfortable, more at ease.  She could do this.  She remembered the sequence necessary to start the prowler, and executed the needed procedures.  She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of any effort to remember, relying solely on instinct.

"Uh, baby, it might be easier to navigate the exit with your eyes open."

"I can do this."

"I know, but I have to say that you usually do it with your eyes open."

She ignored him and let her hands begin to move.  It came back to her and soon, they were lifting off.  She opened her eyes, and gently flew her ship through the docking exits, getting them off Moya without any mishaps.

Intense satisfaction coursed throughout her.  She almost felt like she'd just gotten through with a session with John.  She sat back, touching the controls, relaxing, and feeling like she'd just discovered the missing piece to herself.  Now she hoped she could remember how to land.

--------------------------------

The flickering light from the campfire danced over her face, creating living shadows that played tag over her features.  She was still drop dead gorgeous and he had her exactly where he wanted her.  She sat between his legs, her back pressed against his chest, their fingers intertwined across her stomach.

"So when I asked him what he had in his pants," she was telling him, trying to contain laughter, "He pulls out a Schlepfig!"

"No way, a Schlepfig?"

"You don't know what that is, do you?"

"Not a clue."

"It's a small, yellow, slimy creature that hops and has a long tongue to catch insects."

"Gotcha, he pulls a jaundiced frog from his backside.  What happened then?"

"While I was trying to figure out what to say, he pulled out another one."

"The kid had two frogs in his pants?"

"Actually, it turned out to be six."

John choked on his laughter.  "I can't wait to see him again.  'Oh, Frog Boy!'"

"He doesn't have much of a sense of humor about it these days.  What about Brennik?"

"Well, when she was in school, she and a bunch of her friends decided to pull a prank.  They snuck out late at night and painted their gymnasium a nasty neon pink.  Ugliest color I've ever seen."

"What did you do?"

"Absolutely nothing.  She doesn't know I know.  But it reminded me too much of the time my friends and I stripped Mr. Wither's Chevy and rebuilt it on top of the auditorium.  I was too busy trying not to laugh to yell at her."

Aeryn sighed wistfully.  "I wish we could have raised them together."

He tightened his hold and nuzzled her neck.  "Me too, Aeryn."

He felt her stiffen in his arms and then suddenly turn, worried eyes searching his.  "I'm pregnant."

His heart lifted.  She'd finally told him.  He didn't know how much longer he could have waited before confronting her, but she'd trusted him enough to come to him on her own.  A radiating smile brightened his face before he leaned over and kissed her.

"So you're happy?" she asked when she could finally speak.

"Yes, I'm happy."  He kissed her temple, leery of asking the next question.  He should probably wait, but the sooner they got all the unpleasantness out of the way, the sooner they could enjoy the experience.  Well, enjoy it as much as any man can enjoy a hormonal ex-Peacekeeper.  "But we need to think about your medical care."  He cleared his throat.  "Is the baby full Sebacean, or are we going to have to find a specialist?"

He was unprepared for the resounding _smack_ he received across his face.  Grateful it hadn't been a Pantak Jab, he rubbed his jaw, dismayed to find that Aeryn had flown from his lap and now sat a little away from him.  He was handling this all wrong.

"Honey, I'm not accusing you of anything.  You didn't even know I existed seven cycles ago.  Besides, I don't know what any of your masters were like.  You haven't exactly been forthcoming about details.  I'm concerned for the baby, but I still love it."

"_IT_?"

"You know what I mean."

"I wasn't _with anyone seven cycles ago, or three or ten, or two, or nineteen.  The one master who tried got crushed mivonks, rendering him sterile, and I received a beating that brought me within a dench of death."  She was crying and he felt helpless.  He tried to go to her, wrap his arms around her, but she shrugged him off._

"This baby is yours."

Now he wanted to cry.  "Do you know how fantastic that is?  We have to find somewhere to get the stasis released, as soon as possible.  I'm not exactly young, but I want to be there for…"

"There is no stasis."  He stopped cold.  Not again.  Why was he always left out?

"You've already released it?"

"No, there was no stasis to begin with.  Somewhere along the line, they reversed the mutation and I'm now like every other Sebacean female."

He couldn't keep his hands to himself any longer.  He reached for her and pulled her into his arms.  At first she tried to push him away, but he was insistent and she calmed down.  He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes.  "I loved this baby when I thought someone else created it.  I'm overwhelmed that this is ours."  Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, telling her the only way he could exactly how he felt.  No more words to get in the way, he caressed her hair and pulled her tighter into his arms.

This was their second chance.  The rest of the universe could go to hell.

***********************************************************************

Epiphany

He was drunk, and the dark bar with the loud music that he was sitting in fit his mood perfectly.  He leaned back in his seat and threw his arm around his drunken companion, a brunette with big loomas.  She smiled slyly at him and he took another fortifying swallow of his Raslak.  "Two monens.  In another 57 microts it will have been two monens since I walked off that terrace."  She giggled at him, and he realized she wasn't listening to a word he said.  Good.

'Just get through this night and you'll be fine,' he assured himself as he finished off his drink and waved at a waiter for more.

He didn't need a timepiece for this anniversary.  The moment was burned into his inner clock.  "Four… three… two… one," he leaned over the brunette, kissing her warm, inviting mouth, trying to erase the memory of Brennik.

It didn't work.

Where was a bounty hunter when you needed one?

He had to see her. He had to know if she was all right, or if she'd been sucked into another hole, or kidnapped by another over obsessive captain.  He was insane and selfish and stupid, but he was also useless without her.  He had to see her right now.

Abruptly, almost as an afterthought, he pulled away from the brunette.  He'd almost forgotten he was kissing her.  He was embarrassed to realize he'd forgotten her name.  Taloola? Timeron?  Whatever, he had to get out.  "Listen, Timalee…"

"Zxcet."

"Whatever, I got to go."

Chugging another Raslak, he pushed himself to his feet and tried to climb over the woman blocking his exit from the booth.  He stumbled and ended up sprawled in her soft lap.  Lifting his head to apologize, he encountered a face full of cleavage.  He heard her giggling as he climbed on hands and knees over her legs on the red bench.

Red bench… "I sat on a red bench with her once."  Why was it that everything reminded him of her?  "Stupid red bench."  Turning to salute the woman, he fell into the aisle, where he paused a moment to reflect on the seascape mural adorning the ceiling. 

"Frelling fish.  I bet Brennik would take a shot at the ceiling out of principle." He paused a moment before he continued his conversation with the air.  "I haven't," he slurred, "been this drunk since the night I was promoted to a Mmaurader crew.  And, well… we all know how that turned out, don't we?" he mused, waving his hand in the air for emphasis.  "Just like everything else important in my life, I managed to kill that, too."  He made a gun with his fingers and took several shots at the ceiling.  "That's for you Bren," he hiccupped.

Using the booth as a post, he pulled himself to his feet and swayed gently as he squinted red eyes, searching the room for his brother.  There he was, a few tables away, looking extremely preoccupied by a blond with an incredible figure.  Seth couldn't make out any more of her features, partly because his vision was blurry, partly because their faces were locked together.

He stumbled over to the table and punched his brother on the arm, uttering nearly unintelligibly, "Tean, get up.  We're leaving."  For emphasis he shoved his face up close to the couple.

Two sets of brown eyes turned to him and Sethya had a vague premonition of something not being quite right.  "You've got the wrong person," his brother said.

Frustrated, he raised his voice.  "Quit clowning and get your eema up, we're leaving!"  He felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around, nearly losing his balance, to find Tean standing behind him.  Confused he turned back to the man in the booth.  "Who are you?"

"Not Tean," was the rueful reply.

"Then why are you wasting my time?" he shouted angrily before turning to his brother, throwing an arm around his shoulders for support.  "Blue eyes.  You have blue eyes, not brown."

---------------------------------

Tean had been sitting at the bar, watching Sethya make a fool of himself.  It was a novelty, and he was enjoying himself, despite the fact that he was sober.  They'd come here to get drunk, which usually meant that Tean would drink and Sethya would drive.  But he knew those plans were frelled when they'd walked in the door and his older brother immediately ordered a Fellip Nectar, with a Raslak chaser.  Guess it was his night to be responsible.

Resigned, he ordered a glass of water and watched the show.  It was amazing how much prettier the girls were after a few drinks.  Did he get that stupid?  No, he could handle his liquor, but Sethya rarely drank.  This would probably be why, the welnitz.

He had fallen out of his bench and was now accosting an innocent couple.  Sighing, Tean climbed off his chair and weaved his way through the crowd.  Reaching his goal, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.  It took a moment to pry Sethya away, but finally his brother forgot the couple.

"Blue eyes, you have blue eyes, not brown."

"Yeah, Seth.  Had them all my life.  Are you ready to check into the hotel, or are you planning on making a bigger fekkik of yourself?  There are still a few people left who aren't watching us."  He was not going to let Sethya forget this for a very long time.

"Get frelled."

"I can't.  You've pretty much ruined all my chances tonight.  It's all right though.  You'll make it up to me tomorrow."  Tomorrow it was his turn.  Hung over or not, his brother owed him for all the time running back and forth lately.

He wrapped Sethya's arm around his shoulders and began leading him from the room.  When the inebriate realized they were moving he mumbled incoherently, "Just get us to Shadow."  Alcoholic breath blasted into Tean's face and he nearly gagged at the stench.

"Oh, no.  We're getting a room so you can sleep this off."

"Like dren we are!" Sethya tried to pull away.  "I'm going to see her right now!"

Tean didn't bother asking who he meant.  She'd been the demon his brother had been running from since they'd left Moya.  She was the reason they'd moved three times more cargo the last two monens than they had in six of the previous cycle.  

"You're in no condition to fly, Seth.  Wait until morning and we'll start looking then."  He wouldn't let him back out of it either, as he'd probably try to do once he was sober.  Forget his turn to get drunk, finding Brennik was his only chance at regaining some semblance of his normal life.

"No!" Sethya barked.  "We're going now!  If you want to stay behind to get some eema, go ahead.  I'm leaving."

"You're an idiot," Tean mumbled as he changed directions, leading his brother to the hanger where Shadow slept.  "I'm flying."

They staggered together in silence for a while before Sethya stopped, putting his face into Tean's.  "You should go away.  I'm going to kill you someday you know."

"You're too drunk for this conversation."

"You know I will.  Tick, tick, tick, the time is running out.  Any day now your life will *poof* and it will be my fault."

Tean looked his brother directly in the eye, making sure he had as much of the drunk's attention as he could get.  "You didn't kill Eihyeth, Seth."

The darker man shoved at his brother's shoulders, yelling loudly.  "Frell you!  You don't know dren!"

"Degjorba killed her."

"He wouldn't have!"

"You did what you thought was right.  We were all naïve back then.  Frell!" he exclaimed, frustrated.  "You're too drunk for this."

Roughly, he grabbed his brother and pulled him towards their ship.  The only way either of them were ever going to have any peace was to find Brennik.  Maybe she'd convince him.


End file.
